


Quality Self Discovery Time

by BethAdastra



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: F/M, Interspecies Romance, Just Two Idiots In Space, Mass Effect Holiday Harbinger, Mutual Pining, OC Ryder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-20
Updated: 2018-01-20
Packaged: 2019-03-07 00:07:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13422510
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BethAdastra/pseuds/BethAdastra
Summary: Anya Ryder lets it slip that she has more than a little crush on Tiran Kandros. Like the good/terrible crew mates that they are, Drack and Vetra take advantage of this, and Anya goes on a little late night adventure. Oneshot. A gift for the lovely BronzeAgeLove, who shares my undying love for overworked buff turians.





	Quality Self Discovery Time

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BronzeAgeLove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BronzeAgeLove/gifts).



“Whats the big deal, kid? You’re allowed to have a crush every now and then.”

Anya Ryder groaned, and pushed her half-full drink away before resting her elbows on the table and pouting. Her cheeks were pink with alcohol and embarrassment, and she directed a scowl at her companions. She might have looked intimidating, if it weren’t for the fact that the low lights of the Vortex bar made her lilac hair glow a delicate pink.

“That’s not the _point._ ”

Anya and Vetra had wandered into the Vortex lounge after docking the Tempest in the hopes of having a relaxing evening, but the krogan that had followed them was quickly sidelining it. Drack was squeezed into a chair that he had “borrowed” from another table, with a huge shit-eating grin covering his face. He had initially planned to indulge in some top-shelf ryncol, but now, his only objective was to meddle in Anya Ryder’s personal affairs.

“Don’t be such an infant.” Drack hummed as he threw back his drink.

“I’m not an infant! Well, maybe to you, but… ugh. I’m not an infant, I’m the Pathfinder. And Pathfinders,” she jabbed a finger down, as if she could physically nail down the point she was making, “don’t have time for crushes.”

“Vetraaaa!” Drack turned and whined at the third member of their party, who had busied herself with moving the empty glasses to the edge of the table. She clacked her mandibles at him.

“No.”

“Vetra, talk some sense into her.”

“It’s none of my business.”

“Drack-“ Ryder started, but was cut off.

“You’re a turian, though! You should be giving her advice. Girl talk, or whatever.”

“I don’t do girl talk. Not with Sid, not with Ryder, and definitely not with you.”

“ARGH,” he snarled. For a moment, Anya almost felt sorry for him. Almost. It couldn’t be easy living for a thousand years and watching relationships bloom and wither like seasonal flowers. Not that Anya had an actual relationship with anyone to begin with but…

“Listen, kid. Your life is too short to pretend to be too good for a tryst or two. Just do it. It would save all of us the agony of watching you make googly-eyes every time you go to the security offices.”

Anya groaned, and pressed her forehead to the table, letting her wild hair fall every which way.

“Is it that obvious?” she murmured to the floor.

Vetra shot a nasty look at Drack. Unbeknownst to Anya, her subvocals buzzed with matronly displeasure, and her mandibles clacked in a silent rendition of “You’re in big trouble, mister.” Drack at least had the decency to look chastised.

The mood had been significantly dampened, and it seemed like a good time to leave. The trio climbed out of their seats, and waved a quick goodbye to the barkeeps before being greeted by the start of the night cycle for the docking bay.

To be fair, Vetra and Drack hadn’t known about Anya’s crush on the head of the Nexus militia until she had been two drinks deep on the Tempest a few nights ago, and had agonized over liking his voice on a less-than-professional level. But as far as Anya was concerned, she was sure she didn’t stand a chance. She was a kid that was in over her head, and Tiran Kandros, well… he was something else entirely.

What Anya didn’t know, however, was that her interest wasn’t as one-sided as she thought.

Vetra intentionally kept away from the security offices and the drama of the leadership team. “Smugglers and administrators don’t really mix well,” she had murmured after returning from a trip to Eos, before disappearing into the madness of the docking bay. So she knew next to nothing.

But Drack knew. Between his trips to the superintendent’s office and tracking down new kett bases, he had heard little snippets throughout Operations.

 

_“You’ll never guess what I just saw!”_

_“Surprise me.”_

_“Kandros was laughing. Out loud. In front of people. And he was sober… I think.”_

_“What made him laugh?”_

_“The Pathfinder. You know, the girl with the pink hair and all that weird armor. Dunno if she said or did something on purpose, but he was laughing.”_

_“Poor bastard.”_

 

-

  
_“That Pathfinder’s kinda cute. Think she’d go for a maiden like me?”_

_“Just don’t try it around Kandros. I hear he’s partial to her.”_

_“He’s partial to anyone that can shoot decent.”_

  
-

  
_“Ever notice how Kandros always puts the Pathfinder’s dossiers at the top of the list when APEX goes out?”_

  
-

  
Even Kesh had her suspicions.

“I tried calling Kandros about the broken security cameras on the delta grid yesterday. And you know what the spiky bastard did? He put me on hold. On hold! And he was talking to Ryder… Don’t get me wrong, I like the kid and she’s got enough on her plate, but whatever they were talking about better have been damn important for him to do that. It’s not like him.”

Hearing Kesh complain about Kandros had been the nail in the coffin.

So for Drack, the master of being forthcoming, it was pure agony to see one half of a terrible puzzle in pining, bemoaning her inability to talk to attractive people over a glass of beer. Drack wasn’t big on pity, but he liked Anya. After all that she had been through, she deserved the chance to relax.

And then Drack got to thinking.

If he couldn’t get Anya to do anything about it on her own…

Vetra, with her sharp eyes and sharper words, could see the wheels turning in Drack’s head, but she didn’t say anything. As they stepped out of the bar, the krogan typed furiously into his omnitool. Anya sulked, and leaned against a nearby pillar.

Her omnitool pinged with a requisition order sent straight from Drack. When she looked at the single item on the list, she laughed.

“A six-pack? But we’ve already been drinking. Why do we need more alcohol?”

Drack wagged a finger as they walked to the nearby supply station. Vetra glared, trying to figure out what he was up to, but maintained her silence, even when the hulking krogan swiped at a few buttons on a terminal to complete his purchase, and returned with a set of beers that looked dainty and comical in his large hands.

Without waiting, he headed for the tram station.

“Drack, the docking bay is that way.” Vetra tilted her head in the opposite direction.

He let out a grumbly “Bah!” and waved her off as he entered an empty tram car, and began copying an address to the tram terminal. The two women had no choice but to follow.

The car rolled away with a low hum, and a series of news blurbs began to blare over the sound system.

Anya waited a full minute before curiosity got the better of her.

“Where are we going?”

“I know someone who you can talk to.”

“Drack, I’m not really in the mood to-“

“Trust me, just this once, kid. Take the damn beers, and go to the coordinates. Vetra and I are going back to the Tempest. Call it… quality self discovery time.”

Vetra opened her mouth, probably to object, but was interrupted by the happy ding of the tram comm systems as it pulled in to a residential block. If Anya was getting sent to where Vetra guessed she was going, she was going to be furious with Drack. But right now, Anya was only mildly confused, maybe a little irate.

Anya looked to her turian friend in a way that Sid had mastered as a child when she wasn’t getting her way, while Drack glared. Anya wanted Vetra to guide her, and Drack just didn’t want her to snitch. Her resolve, already weakened by liquor, easily broke.

“I’m… just going to trust the old man on this. He’s got plenty of experience.”

“But who-“

Vetra shook her head. “Just go with it, Ryder. He’s an _idiot_ , but he cares. And I care. You need to vent with someone outside of the Tempest.”

Anya’s face scrunched up in frustration, but before she could say anything, the tram door beeped, insisting that it wanted to close, whether Anya was ready or not. After a split second of uncertainty, she held her hand out to take the six-pack from Drack.

“Okay… I’ll go. But you guys owe me.”

Drack’s own form of encouragement came from a light shove, which sent Ryder out the door in a graceless stumble.

“Just use that fancy scanner of yours, kid. The coordinates will lead you where you need to go, and all you need to do is knock on the door.”

Ryder glared, and Drack leered at her. “You do know how to knock, don’t you, Pathfinder?”

The tram doors slid shut, and the car began to pull away from the station. Ryder only had time to sigh and wave at the odd pair before turning to follow the path lined out by her omnitool.

“So, am I in any danger of being kidnapped on this mystery journey?” Anya subvocalized with only the slightest bit of sarcasm to her AI.

_I do not sense any immediate threats, however, it might be prudent to inform you that your destination is-_

“Oh, don’t ruin the surprise, SAM. Unless it’s a room full of armed kett, I think I’ll be okay.”

_Your safety is my priority, Pathfinder. You are not in danger, but I would advise rest and quiet. An undisclosed destination and more alcohol will lower your ability to recover and prepare for your next mission…_

“I don’t like this either, but anything is better than going back to the Tempest to mope. Call it…,” she shrugged, and turned a corner, “having a sense of adventure.”

_Anya._

_Sigh_.“Not tonight, SAM. I need a break. Having my own voice in my head is more than enough. Take the night off.”

She waited for what felt like forever. SAM’s soundbytes had been driving her up the wall all evening, and she was looking for any excuse to enjoy some peace and quiet. She had never asked SAM to “take a break” before, and wasn’t even sure if it would, or could, accept her request. But before the silence became unbearable, she got a response.

_Understood, Pathfinder._

It was no small relief that at the same time as the AI temporarily dislodged itself from her conscience; her omnitool pinged, and highlighted an inconspicuous door as her destination. It was a residential door, to what looked like one of the smaller units in the station.

For a moment, she thought about how ridiculous she was; standing in front of a stranger’s door, drunk, aggravated, and relying entirely on Drack’s good word. Before common sense urged her to turn around and retreat, she held out a finger, and rang the doorbell.

There was a thumping sound, and a low voice echoed from somewhere deep in the apartment.

Anya waited.

The door slid open, and a bright blue glow put the owner of the apartment in a silhouette. The owner of the apartment sounded irritated, and groggy, and painfully familiar.

“Who in the… uhh. Pathfinder?”

Caught in a grimace from the entryway light in her eyes, Anya found herself face to face with a very disgruntled, and very shirtless Tiran Kandros.

“Ah….” She was stupefied.

“Pathfinder? What’s going on?”

Her silence was misconstrued as terror, and Tiran’s soldier side sprang to life.

“Is something wrong?”

“I’m going to kill them.” Any other time might have been comical, but all that Anya could think about was how she wished she had hands big enough to wring Drack’s neck. She couldn’t meet his eyes, instead, she used her free hand to scratch the back of her hand and mumble while imagining inhumane ways to give Drack and Vetra a piece of her mind. Meanwhile, Kandros waved a hand in front of her face.

“Uh, Pathfinder. Eyes up. What’s going on? Is it the Nexus? Podromos? Is there some sort of emergency going on?”

“Ahh… No. No, there aren’t any emergencies.” She shook her head and felt her ears burning with embarrassment. “I’m just an idiot.”

That caused him to make a strange chirping sound, and his head bobbed back while he turned off whatever evolutionary switch took him off of battle mode.

“Does… being an idiot now qualify for visiting during my off hours? Because I missed that memo from the leadership.” His tone was low and dry.

“I…”

Tiran chirped; it was a worried sound. After an angry huff, Anya let it out.

“I’m going to kill them. God. I’m really sorry, Kandros. Really. I… there’s no emergency.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah… it… it isn’t Nexus business.”

Tiran hummed, still slightly confused. His brow rose slightly, and he leaned against the door frame.

“So… if you don’t mind me asking… what brings you here at this time of night?”

Color tinged her cheeks, and she looked down at the beer cans for an extra dose of courage that never came.

“It’s a long story.”

“I bet.” His laugh was warm, and he dropped into a posture that Ryder had never seen in the security offices, when his body was cased in armor and he kept a perpetual frown directed towards his APEX terminal. Now, he was figuratively and literally stripped of his Nexus duties, and Anya found herself hating the fact that she liked what she saw. His massive hands were ungloved, and his current slouching pose made it easy to follow the pebbling that ran from his cowl down his ribs and to his stomach. She knew she was gawking like an idiot, but after tonight, she had no idea if she’d get this chance again. So she just went with it. Tiran didn’t read her silence as such; he must not have been the best at reading facial expressions, because he only remembered his manners after a few awkward seconds of staring at each other. He tilted his head in an invitation to step inside.

Anya felt her reserves of liquid courage waning, so she hoisted the beer cans over her shouder before trying to slide in without getting too close to him. The move made him smirk, and before she could get a second step in, he set a hand on the doorframe opposite of the one his back leaned against, and put his free hand on his hip.

“One question, though, before you come in. Are those beers for me, or you?” He nodded at the cans, which were still slung over her shoulder. It hit Anya that she had no idea; she had just blindly taken them from Drack, and didn’t have a straight answer for her host. To save herself from the embarrassment of being caught off guard again, she simply handed the six-pack to him. He twisted the holster so that he could read the label, and his mandibles flicked once.

“Dual chirality. Nice.”

“Consider it my toll for bothering you at such an odd hour.”

“Anytime, Pathfinder.” The words filled her with equal levels of hope and disappointment. “Anytime” was a good sign, it meant he could stand her company, even if it was a surprise visit during his off hours. But “Pathfinder” felt a little… impersonal.

As she slipped into the apartment, past Kandros and under the arm he still had stretched across the door, she could feel his body heat radiating around her. It did nothing to help with the blush that had barely begun to fade from her cheeks. Getting in, she focused on looking at anything other than the shirtless turian that was now standing behind her.

Looking around, she had to let her eyes readjust from the brilliance of the entry light, which had initially blinded her. Not that she should have been surprised; Kandros was probably sleeping before she came in, and turians generally preferred a lower light setting. True to turian evolution, it was also warmer in the apartment. Much warmer.

“Sorry about the mess. I don’t exactly have visitors that often.”

Whatever mess he was talking about was a mystery to Ryder. The apartment, already spartan by design, barely had any furniture in it, and what few boxes were in the kitchen and living room were stacked neatly against the walls. The only thing that looked lived-in was the armor, and even with it shelved on the wall, Ryder only recognized it from visits to the security offices. Obviously, Kandros and Ryder’s definitions of messy were very different.

Anya turned to glance at her host, and she heard the pop-click-hiss of one of the beer cans opening. He followed her into the living room, and set down the beer before using his talons to open another can, and hold it out in offering to her. She took the can gingerly, especially when she saw how small her hand was in comparison to his pale, sharp, talon-tipped fingers.

“Thanks,” she mumbled.

He nodded, and went to rummage around in a kitchen drawer before returning with a straw-like object that he stuck in his drink.

Right. Turian mouths aren’t really made for drinking from cans.

He turned on a TV that was mounted to the opposite wall. The glare of the screen cast everything in a fluoride glow as recent Nexus news reels flicked on and off. There was no noise though, since Kanrdos hit the mute command from his omnitool. He turned to her, asking if she didn’t mind the light, while he went for the chair that sat near the couch she was perched on. As he settled into his own chair, he shifted his hips slightly, but kept firm eye contact.

“So tell me. What exactly warrants a midnight visit for you, Ryder?”

Anya gripped her can, still cold and slick with condensation.

There was no going back now.

“A bad recommendation from my so-called friends.”

His mandibles clicked, but he didn’t verbally respond. So she elaborated.

“I don’t get a lot of time to rest or decompress between my trips planetside. I was… venting with my crew earlier tonight. And it came down to them sending me this way… because I guess they thought this would be a better arrangement.” Only a little sarcasm leaked into her tone.

She took a generous gulp of her own drink.

He chuckled. “I can’t imagine how. Do any of them even know me? The only thing I’m good at venting about, or listening to other people vent about is butting heads with Tann.”

“Glad we have that in common.”

They shared a laugh, and spared a few minutes to tally up the mundane tasks that the director was putting them through. Soon after, they sat in companionable silence for a few minutes, both watching the updates scroll along the bottom of the TV screen. News about power grid updates, cryo and housing openings, colony expansions, kett movement.

It was nice.

But Kandros’ curiosity wouldn’t rest. Ryder should have known better than to withhold answers from someone as persistent as him.

“Seriously. What’s wrong?” he leaned forward, and used the strange straw contraption to sip from his can.

“I have a strong feeling you won’t like my answer, Kandros.”

“Won’t know until you say.”

“Fine.” She snapped. She took a moment to drink half of what was left in her can, before wiping her mouth and grimacing at the floor.

“I like you… I like you a lot.”

“What?” His voice was quieter than she expected. She swirled her drink around a bit, and then dug into it.

“I like you on a very unprofessional level, Kandros. And its been bothering me, because there’s nothing I can do about it.”

“Ryder…”

“And I know it’s completely juvenile. I’m the FNG here, I’m not even supposed to be the Pathfinder… I- we’re just on different levels anyways. Humans aren’t big on fraternization.” She gestured at his armor, and then at the TV. “You have a whole militia to oversee, and you’ve been out here for months…”

“That’s too bad.”

“I- what?” Anya looked up. Kandros’ head tilted slightly, as if he were looking at her from a new angle, with bits of the pale flesh between his jaw and throat exposed. There was also a slight buzzing in the room, but she assumed it was from the TV screen.

“It’s too bad that you don’t want to try.”

“What? Try what?”

The buzzing sound grew, more like a distant motorcycle hum, and Anya realized that it was Kandros making the noise. One of his brows rose, which was a surprisingly human expression, and he crossed a foot over the top of his knee.

“Try asking me out. You make it sound like I’ve already said no.”

She stared at him for a few seconds. She was utterly gobsmacked.

She had been expecting a laugh. Maybe a shudder at their difference in species. Maybe even blatant rejection, and a boot to the door. Not a… request to give it a try.

She made a stupid “uh” sound for a second, before wrangling in enough control to speak without laughing or crying.

“Kandros-“

“Tiran.”

She scowled. “Tiran. Are you interested in fraternizing with a human?”

He had the nerve to pretend to think about it. “I’ve never tried it before, but I’m definitely interested. Just depends on the human.”

“Would you be interested in fraternizing with me?”

“Definitely.”

Elation washed over Anya like a wave of cold water, and a knot formed itself in her belly, though, this was the kind of knot that had nothing to do with unrequited crushes, and had everything to do with very real, very possible acts that went beyond crushing. Somewhere in the mix, she knew that her face was probably flushed, too.

“Is it normal for you humans to sit around and wait for things to happen? Or can I kiss you now?”

Tiran had gotten out of his chair to crouch in front of her. In her reverie of attraction and confusion, she hadn’t noticed how close he now was, or that he had taken the beer can out of her hands and set it on the ground. But now that he had said it, all she wanted to do was kiss him through and through. She nodded at him, with a small smile on her lips, while she looked at him up close and tried to memorize each plate that ran between his mandible and shoulder. Oh, she wanted to kiss him. She wanted to do a lot of things with him. He seemed to feel the same way, because the humming in his chest rang low against her ears, and he moved very slowly and deliberately, so that nothing he did was missed by her. Both of his hands rubbed along her arms and up to her shoulders. He was careful as he pulled her close.

“Come here,” he coaxed.

His hand slid along the bony part of her chin, with his thumb brushing against one side of her jaw and his primary finger pressing against the other. He tilted her head up, and touched his mouth to hers.

His alien mouth had almost no give, but it was warm against her lips, and he tasted just like the beer they had been drinking. His mandibles flared slightly when one of her hands came to rest on his neck, and she felt his mouth open and pinch shut to nip at her lower lip. It was enough encouragement for her to press harder into him, and hum with pleasure.  
Tiran leaned into the kiss, and used the opportunity to card a hand through the hair at the base of her skull so that they could move without breaking contact. It made Anya painfully aware of the keel bone that rubbed into her ribcage, and just how godawful hot it was in the apartment. She had to remind herself to take a moment to breathe just as she was discovering the feeling of his tongue against her own. When she broke away, she made sure to keep a hand on his cheek, and she pressed her forehead against his.

“That was… nice,” she gasped.

“Glad we’re on the same page now.” He laughed, and used the back of his knuckle to stroke her cheek.

“Can we try it again?”

Laughter filled the small dark room as he pulled her close again, and they toppled onto the couch together.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

**Author's Note:**

> A gift for the lovely BronzeAgeLove! I really hope I did Anya justice and that she wasn't too OOC, I just really really really wanted her to have a semi-justifiable reason to walk up to Kandros' place and have him greet her sans shirt. Because we all need more buff shirtless turians. XD I had a lot of fun writing it, and to anyone foolish enough to have read this far, I hope you had fun reading it!


End file.
